


The Oddities of Love

by Guanin



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Blutbad behavior, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by bisho-s's lovely drawing and brbsoulnomming's comment on it <a href="http://brbsoulnomming.tumblr.com/post/22166525455/the-little-music-note-above-monroes-head-is-what">here</a>. </p>
<p>Nick catches Monroe peeing in his backyard. Monroe's fumbled explanation leads to rather interesting doings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Oddities of Love

It was dark. However, it wasn’t so dark that Monroe could scurry around Nick’s backyard without Nick noticing, even if the light pollution from the lit houses and the few passing cars on the street didn’t allow him to perceive more than a fuzzy mass moving along the inner side of the fence, too vague to tell for certain that it was Monroe, but Nick was pretty confident in his guess. 

After a very enjoyable night together, Monroe had left the bed on the pretence that he was going to brush his teeth, claiming that he couldn’t get to sleep otherwise. At the time, blissful lethargy robbed Nick of his higher cognitive functions, so he failed to remember that, since they usually stayed over at Monroe’s place, Monroe didn’t have a toothbrush here, nor would he simply unwrap a new one without asking permission. And, even if he would, Nick kept his toiletries in the upstairs bathroom, not the downstairs one, yet down went Monroe, telltale steps not silent enough on the stairwell a few seconds before the troublesome latch of the back door unlocked with a loud _clack_. Nick jerked upright on the bed when he heard it, his former contentment fading into worry. 

Why was Monroe leaving? Surely he wasn’t leaving leaving, not without an explanation. 

Pulling on sweatpants and a t-shirt, Nick rushed downstairs and peered through the living room window that faced the back yard. It didn’t take long to find Monroe tucked near the corner where the two fence walls met, his back to Nick. What was he doing? Nick couldn’t tell anything other than that Monroe was simply standing there. 

Wait.

_You have got to kidding me._

He wasn’t… Why would he do that here? 

Monroe jumped the instant Nick opened the back door, his head jerking around to look behind him, but he didn’t turn his whole body straight away. Nick couldn’t be certain in the gloom, but it sure looked like he was fiddling with something right in front of him. His fly, perhaps. No. His fly, confirmed. Nick’s human sense of smell might be mediocre compared to some people’s (though Monroe was gracious enough not to put it in such blunt terms), but he still recognized urine when he smelled it.

“Nick,” Monroe said, voice low so he wouldn’t disturb the neighbors. “What are you doing out here?”

His face wasn’t really visible, so Nick couldn’t ascertain his expression, but he sure sounded guilty. 

“That’s what I came to ask you,” Nick said, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. He should have put on a sweater. It was chilly out here. 

Monroe finally turned around, what might be a grin plastered on his face, unless the shadows were messing with Nick’s vision.

“Nothing,” Monroe said, shuffling along the fence toward the house and away from the scene of the crime. “Just needed some fresh air. It’s a Blutbad thing.”

“A Blutbad thing,” Nick said, following Monroe as his boyfriend did a very good impression of trying not to escape. 

“Yeah. After, you know. The fresh air. Being outside. It’s pleasant. Relaxing.”

“You’ve never done it the other times.”

“Well, I don’t always do it. It’s not like it’s required. You know, I was thinking, you should put some plants out here.” Monroe gestured vaguely at the lawn with his right hand. “Some flowers. Or not. You don’t seem like the flowers in the yard kind of guy. But maybe a small tree. It just looks so bare like this.”

They were by the house now. Monroe snuck past Nick to climb the stairs to the door, no longer bothering to hide the fact that he was fleeing Nick’s presence. Nick allowed this until they went inside because this would be a very bizarre conversation for a neighbor to overhear, but as soon as he shut the door behind him, he said, 

“Are you sure that is the Blutbad thing you were doing?”

“What?”

Monroe hesitated on the stairwell, already a couple of steps up. It was darker here than outside since Nick had not wanted to tip Monroe off earlier by turning the light on, so now he couldn’t see more than the outline of Monroe’s body. Nick could flip the light switch now and put them on even ground (because Monroe surely could see him well enough), but he didn’t want Monroe to feel like he was in an interrogation room. 

“You were pissing in the yard.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

If this really were an interrogation room, Monroe would never survive. Clipped, high pitched tone. Rushed words. And who knew what guilt might be stamped on his face. 

“Monroe, I may not have your great nose, but urine is a little pungent not to notice.”

The staircase creaked as Monroe descended a step. Nick’s vision had adjusted enough for him to detect Monroe gripping the railing with his right arm. 

“It’s not what it looks like. Okay, I know that’s what people say when it is what it looks like, but often it genuinely isn’t what it looks like. Like now.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure exactly what it looks like, other than that you were technically marking your territory.”

“See? Not what it looks like. Only… Kind of. But not like that. It’s a little, um… complicated.”

Of course it was. Their combined existences made “complicated” seem too mild a word.

“Do you think you can simplify it for me?”

Monroe didn’t speak for a few seconds. It was time to turn on the light. Nick was getting frustrated with his inability to see Monroe’s face.

“Do you mind if I turn the light on?” he asked. 

“Sure. Yeah. Go ahead.”

“Do I need to start worrying about what this complicated reason is?” Nick asked as he felt his way toward the lamp next to the couch, for he didn’t want to blind himself with the full blast of the ceiling light. “You sound way too nervous about it.”

“No, no. There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m making too big of a deal about it. It’s just… Blutbad stuff.”

“I’ve been fine with your Blutbad stuff so far.”

Nick closed his eyes before switching on the lamp, though that didn’t help his eyes cringe any less and for a short while all he could see the bright red of his eyelids. After letting his pupils sort themselves out for a few seconds, he checked on Monroe, who looked none the worse for wear, except, of course, for the embarrassment suffusing his face. His shoulders were hunched as if he were trying to hide inside himself, his fingers alternately tapping and rubbing along the length of the rail, eyes lowered, avoiding Nick’s. 

“I know,” he said, shrugging. “It’s just… Okay, here’s the thing.”

Monroe got off the stairs, coming closer toward Nick, his hands raised in front of him to illustrate his point, although the slightly grasping motion of his fingers indicated that he wasn’t quite certain what that point was. 

“I wasn’t marking my territory as such,” he said. “Well, technically I was. But I’m not saying you’re mine or anything. Not like— It’s not a possessive thing. Obviously, this is your turf. It’s more like… We’ve been together for a while. Not that long a while, but it’s long enough. Not that there’s a minimum time requirement.”

“Monroe,” Nick said, stopping Monroe before he composed an entire monologue of nothing but roundabout arguments and introductory apologies that didn’t actually tell Nick anything about what was going on. Monroe glanced at him, his expression so docile and ready to please. Jeez, how bad was this? It wasn’t like Monroe hadn’t seen him deal with a million other things that were far more weird than anything Monroe had ever done.

“Why don’t you just cut to the chase?” Nick asked, stepping closer to Monroe. “Really. I can handle it.”

A quick, nervous smile tugged onto Monroe’s lips.

“Right. Yeah, I’m just… I’ve never had to explain this to a human, you know? The gist of it is: We’re together. I’m over here a lot, in your territory, so to speak. It’s still completely yours, only, since, it could be said that our friendship was technically a long courtship—“

“Courtship?” 

Nick raised a brow at that.

“Hey, it’s not my fault the 20th century made a perfectly respectable word sound sappy. The point is, it feels like this thing between us has been going on for longer than it actually has, which activates certain instincts. Obviously, I don’t let my instincts lead me by the nose, but I kinda, well, wanted to this time.”

“Because?”

“Because it’s your house and since we have always been so comfortable at each other’s houses, you know, sharing coffee, practicing with your Grimm arsenal…”

“Knocking things over in my trailer.”

“Showing up without notice and expecting to get fed.”

“Okay. I get it. You’re saying that our territories have melded.”

“In a sense. If you were a Blutbad, you’d be welcome to piss in my yard. You probably would have already. Theoretically, you could, but that might just confuse people.”

“That’s alright,” Nick said, sliding his hands down Monroe’s shoulders while smiling up at him. “Is this what you were worried so much about? If you want to mark my house, that’s fine.”

Monroe tentatively placed his hands on Nick’s waist, fingers carefully pressing. 

“Really? You don’t feel like I’m overstepping? That I’m laying a claim on you?”

“Are you?”

“No! Well, technically. It doesn’t translate well into actual language.”

Nick pressed in closer, wrapping his arms around Monroe, and massaged some of the tension out of the muscles bunched in Monroe’s back. Monroe’s hands slid up Nick’s own back, fingers splayed along his spine, the warmth of his heartbeat pressed against Nick’s chest. 

“So,” Nick said, “if I peed in your yard, I would be claiming you, too?”

“Pretty much. But again, it’s a poor choice of words.”

“It’s settled, then. Tomorrow, I’ll head over to your place and mark it all as mine.”

Monroe’s brow wrinkled in an incredulous frown.

“No, you won’t. You’re too clean for that.”

“You want to try me? Come on. We’ll head over there right now.”

Grabbing Monroe’s hand, Nick started pulling toward the door to put on his shoes.

“We’re not going now,” Monroe said. “It’s past midnight.”

“So we’ll just stay over there. I should get acquainted with my new home.”

“Hey! You were supposed to be calm and understanding about this, not cocky.”

Twenty minutes later, Nick stood less than five inches away from Monroe’s fence close to the spot where he had first espied him marking his turf over a year earlier, his hand on his fly.

“You’re really going to do this?” Monroe asked.

“Yup,” Nick said, pulling down his jean zipper.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know. But I want to embrace your Blutbad…ness.”

He pulled himself out. Ooh, the air was chilly. Perhaps he could postpone this. No. He said he would do it, so now he must, well, do it. All he needed was to relax for things to get going and then he would be pissing on a fence out in the open air where a neighbor who might be up late could see them, but all the lights were off in the only house that overlooked this part of the yard, so that wasn’t a chance worth thinking about, especially since he really couldn’t back out now. Besides, Monroe did this all the time. 

“Nick, really. It’s okay.”

“No, I’m doing it now.”

So he was. He was pissing in Monroe’s yard. Huh. He never saw this coming this morning while he was compiling his mental “to do” list for the day. Buy groceries. Get the car oil changed. Piss in Monroe’s yard. 

“Wow,” Monroe said. “You really are doing it.”

“I said I would, didn’t I? It’s not so bad. Just… a little cold.”

Monroe snorted. 

When Nick was done, he zipped himself up faster than he ever had before and smiled at Monroe, disbelief at his own daring giving him a little rush. He really wished there were more light so he could see the look on Monroe’s face, but he imagined it was a mix between befuddled and amused. 

“Well, Monroe,” Nick said. “Your house is mine now.”

“Yours is mine, too. Don’t go on forgetting that.”

They kissed, slow and gentle, but certainly kindling up to more energetic doings, except for one tiny, little problem illustrated by the fact that Nick had his arms spread out at his sides.

“I would love to continue this,” Nick said. “But I need to wash my hands first.”

“Yeah,” Monroe said, pulling back. “Good idea.”


End file.
